


I'll be just fine

by thedisasternerd



Series: fallen light [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff and Angst, Give my dumb boys a hug, Guilt, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Still no beta, This is angsty boyos but has love and cuddling, True Love, a big one, slices of life, still dying like a man, they need and deserve it, yeah!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 16:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisasternerd/pseuds/thedisasternerd
Summary: "You know," Cody eventually mumbles, voice thick and husky with held back tears, "I don't know who I'd be without you. Where I'd be. What I'd be."Obi-Wan opens his eyes and finds Cody's face barely an inch from his own; tear-streaked, puffy, lips slick with sobs. But his eyes, even though they're red-rimmed and swollen, are still frighteningly clear. Their rich umber reminds Obi-Wan of the trees that stood in the gardens of the Jedi Temple. Ancient, comforting."Me neither."
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: fallen light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606903
Comments: 18
Kudos: 501
Collections: Clones Adore Obiwan





	I'll be just fine

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty then.
> 
> So this took me a while as I had scraps to work with that didn't patch together into a particularly coherent or fluid story. Basically, GO READ THE FIRST PART OF THE SERIES FIRST, please. It's so much better and gives the added bonus of helping this sloppy mess make some sense.
> 
> Anyway, no beta, this was a solo adventure that, uh, didn't really work out the way I wanted. Essentially this is a massive mess of emotional baggage with hugs and love to alleviate it. 
> 
> On a side note, this fic is a little more personal/sensitive than the previous one, so proceed with caution if you're sensitive.

> _"We need to sit on the rim of the well of darkness and fish for fallen light with patience"_
> 
> \- Pablo Neruda

He's sitting at the table with his head in his hands when he feels it.

The twinge. Faint but definitely _there_.

He knows what it is.

 _Who_ it is.

The lightsaber is in his hand and the blaster is tucked into his belt before he knows it.

He's already in his gear, since he didn't bother taking it off - he's too empty to really care - despite the way that the goggles are digging into his forehead. All he needs is a medpack and maybe a stretcher - he has the first one, but not the latter. Nonetheless, it'll have to do. Besides, he's too far out for anyone but the Tusken raiders to see him use the Force.

Sighing, he stands up, the chair scraping across the floor, and makes his way over to the emergency medpack in the corner. There should be bacta and bandages, as well as clean, bottled water. He hopes it'll be enough. He doesn't really know what he'll have to deal with. A runaway or an outcast. A man or an empty husk filled with whispered controls that suppress the soul.

The blaster is heavy, bouncing on his hip as he walks. But he'll use it if he has to. He has a child to protect, now, after all.

Otherwise he wouldn't be here.

Or anywhere, really.

He slings the pack filled with supplies over his back and snaps the goggles down over his eyes, relaxing as the harsh light of midday dims. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door and steps out, into the glare of twin suns that beat smouldering heat down into the dry ground.

He follows the Force until he sees it; a tiny blotch in the distance. The smoking crater left by an escape pod. The dunes are too steep for him to be able to see any figures; but the Force sings, and he knows, deep in his heart, that He's not dead.

He goes on until, at last, kriffing _f_ _inally,_ he sees Him.

White armour charred, yellow paint peeling and scratched, and what looks horrifyingly like crusted blood covering several gashes in the white case. He stumbles one last time and lies supine on the sand, unmoving.

He picks up his pace, practically running towards Him until he's close, close enough to sink down onto his knees beside Him.

He can't breathe; the stench of blood and burning and death and betrayal clogs up his throat.

"Force, _Cody,_ " he drags in a shuddering breath, "What did they do to you?"

The man mumbles something about being dead and blue eyes.

He finds his own name among the scattered dregs of outpouring hope.

"You're not dead, Cody," Obi-Wan chokes out, "You're on Tattooine. Outer Rim."

Cody continues muttering feverishly, about being dead, about going to heaven, about blue eyes - and Obi-Wan reaches out to take his helmet off, ever so gently.

Thankfully, there aren't any additional serious injuries to Cody's head, save for a gash over his hairline and pretty severe bruising.

"You're not dead."

Cody looks up at him with agonised amber eyes.

"Blue eyes," he breathes, reaching up - to light or to touch? - and passes out just as Obi-Wan lifts him up into the air.

They begin the long track back to the home that's not really a home.

Cody's home. If he's still Cody.

Obi-Wan compartmentalises all that, shoving it away for the sleepless nights that he knows will come. For now, he just hopes that he's got anaesthetic strong enough to knock someone out long enough to perform unsanctioned and extraordinarily dangerous brain surgery.

He'll take the risk.

* * *

The first week that Cody spends unconscious in bed, head bandaged and bleeding, is hell.

Obi-Wan spends it not leaving the hut at all, regularly changing the bacta, gently tipping water down Cody's throat and crying as he holds his hand. It's almost a blur of pain and tentative hope that he dares not kindle into anything brighter than a dim flicker. The fever burns hot in both of them.

He doesn't eat - he can't.

The eighth day, he feels that Cody's much more stable and leaves for Mos Eisley for supplies. It takes an entire day and a good part of the night - he doesn't want to attract attention by having a particularly good speeder. The one he has is ancient and rusty, just like all the other speeders on Tattooine.

Bargaining always takes too long. There's a new Hutt overlord in town - Jabba - so of course the prices have risen accordingly. Obi-Wan doesn't have the money but then again, he doesn't need the bloodthirsty gaze of a Hutt tracking his every move. So he twists his words and feels like a cheat when he gets what he wants.

Ironically, when he comes back, Cody's awake.

* * *

He doesn't know how long they spend in a sort of limbo.

Then. Their first kiss since The Incident. It's dry and chapped and tastes of dust but is still like a glass of water after a long drought.

Cody's eyes start regain their bright shine, like polished wood. He smiles brighter than a kyber crystal. The Force sings around him in the same way too, inexplicably - but very much unsurprisingly - drawing Obi-Wan towards him.

* * *

It's too hot

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and breathes out. Breathes in. Breathes out. In. Out. It still hurts - like he's got a beskar cage around his chest so that he can't get enough air into his chest, choking him slowly but surely.

He wonders if his eyes are burning yellow again.

The cage gets tighter. Steel digs in. It's not steel, though. He knows what it's _really_ made of.

Cody stirrs next to him and makes a soft, confused sound as he blinks himself awake. His eyes shine a soft amber in the light of the moons, which loom large and is glowing gold from behind the window. _Force_ but he's the only light that Obi-Wan can see.

He may be a light now, so bright and so pure, but Obi-Wan will tarnish and ruin him too, sooner or later.

"Cyar'ika?" Cody mumbles, sitting up slowly and unsuccessfully stifling a yawn, "What is it?"

Oh. He thinks it was a nightmare.

He has plenty of those, too. They both do.

He wishes it were as simple as a bad dream.

"Just thinking," he murmurs after a too-long pause.

Cody, now more awake, gives him a dubious stare, but doesn't push, just loops an arm around Obi-Wan's waist and tucks his chin into the right side of Obi-Wan's neck. A broad hand settles on his opposite arm, the rubbing circles into the skin there.

It's still far too hot.

Then why is he shivering?

And for that matter, why is his face wet?

Cody makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat, eyebrows furrowing, and pulls Obi-Wan closer, right into his side. The slot together like they were meant to be like that.

Obi-Wan always destroyed the people he was closest to, after all.

_Qui-Gon_

_Satine_

The names ring in his ears, their voices a hushed whisper of _Why couldn't you save me?_

They multiply out into a cacophony of names and faces, whirring, forever on an awful loop.

He dimly remembers sickly-yellow eyes and screams of _I hate you!_

He didn't just kill Anakin, he was responsible for his downfall, for everything, for bright laughter turning into hoarse yelling.

And then

he can't-

-think

Despair chokes him. His hands go numb and he can't breathe even though he's gasping in lungfuls of air. His face prickles and he can't move, can't stop, his hands are paralysed and the world spins, making him slump-

-and there are hands on him, over his mouth and he just wants them _off-_

-because they're the hands of all those he couldn't save clawing at him and pleading and and and-

He has to-

\- darkness.

Someone nudges him.

It feels like a wave crashing over him, soothing and drowning all at once.

He blinks, vision clearing to see Cody's concerned face a few inches from his own.

His lungs burn. His entire body feels like it's been squeezed, emptied out. Gone.

Cody's there.

Sighing, Cody reaches up and brushes a lock of hair out of Obi-Wan's eyes. He finds he can't move as the younger man looks at him, just looks, the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes unhappy.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan says hoarsely, and _why is he still shivering_ , "I'm so, so sorry-"

The younger man gently places the fingertips of his free hand on Obi-Wan's lips, cool and calloused. Obi-Wan cuts himself off, heat rising in his cheeks, and turns away. He can't bear it, the hideous mixture of _guilt-shame-bitterness-sadness_ rising in his lungs and taking away the air.

He closes his eyes, not wanting to see the compassion and understanding that Cody has. He doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve Cody.

He feels hot tears slip down his cheeks and he chokes, trembling helplessly. Cody inhales sharply and quickly takes his hand off of Obi-Wan's mouth.

Obi-Wan curls up into himself, hands fisting in his own hair, tugging so hard it hurts. He deserves the pain, he needs it, but Cody is chanting his name and his hands are gentle as they try to soothe him.

He can't stop shaking.

He can't breathe.

* * *

The sunsets on Tattooine are perhaps its only redeeming feature.

That, and Cody, and Luke.

He sits cross-legged on a dune and watches the twin suns set in halos of fire. The sky is pink turning into deep purple which in turn fades into inky blue, lit up by foreign stars that are no longer welcoming.

He tries to convince himself that it isn't his fault, that it was Palpatine and the Sith. He fails, much like he failed everyone else.

The stars are still so beautiful. But they no longer bring hope. They only annihilate it.

The Force swirls all around him. He feels it seep into him and he closes his eyes and allows those golden tendrils of light, the only ones in a sea of darkness, wrap around him, become him.

He lets himself go.

* * *

"You know," the air is cold at this time of night and Obi-Wan shifts closer to Cody, who gives off a ridiculous amount of warmth, like a heater, "I expected to be dead by now."

Obi-Wan wasn't expecting that. Then again, he doesn't know what to expect anymore. His head whips round anyway. Cody stares back, eyes wide and sad and more than a little sardonic in that way of his.

"Well, you're not," Obi-Wan snaps, harsh and reverberating in the silence. He's suddenly winded, because would he be without Cody- if he was- he was-

And then there are hot tears sliding down his face and he sees Cody's face gs slack with panic for a split second before he's burying his face into Cody's shoulder and sobbing, ugly and choking.

"I thought you were-" he breaks off to heave in a breath and he can't say _one of them_ and _dead_ doesn't quite work either.

Cody shushes him.

"Well we're here now. _Together_."

There's something still so _broken in_ his voice that Obi-Wan can only cry harder, hanging onto Cody for dear life.

"Don't let me go," he whispers, "Please."

Cody draws back, and looks him in the eye, his own amber ones shining a little wetly.

"Draar."

* * *

"Tea?" Cody asks, waving what looks a lot like contraband in front of Obi-Wan's face.

The Jedi squints at it. The packaging is peeling and cracked, and the product must be past it's sell by date by a couple of years at least.

"That looks like. Bantha fodder."

Cody gasps, mock hurt, but his eyes glitter with mischief and fondness; Obi-Wan narrows his eyes. The man is plotting, he can tell.

"I am hurt, cyare. But it probably is."

Obi-Wan makes grabby hands at it anyway - he'll take whatever tea he can get, sadly, since there isn't much of it at all in these parts - and Cody throws the packet at him with an easy grace, the prominent muscles in his arms flexing in a way that makes Obi-Wan's mouth go dry. Nonetheless, he catches it and pretty much rips it open.

The smell is the first thing he notices, sweet and just right; he double takes, feeling the bones in his neck crack at the sudden motion.

"What in the-" he buries his nose in it, hearing Cody's soft huff of amusement, "Cody this is _real tea_."

Cody just smirks smugly, leaning back against the wall with his damn arms crossed against his chest.

"How?"

"I have... connections." Cody shrugs.

Obi-Wan debates throwing the tea at his head but ends up cradling it to his chest instead. Cody snorts.

"So protective, cyar'ika," he drawls.

Obi-Wan scowls at him then feels something inside his stomach drop sharply, the saliva in his mouth going bitter with fear.

"Please don't tell me you endangered yourself when getting this."

Cody winks at him.

" _Cody._ "

Cody throws his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay! I got it from Owen in return for helping out with some of their tech. Wanted to, y'know, treat you." He turns serious at Obi-Wan's relieved exhale, "But I wouldn't- do that. I don't think you'd-"

He cuts himself off and strides over to the table without preamble. Obi-Wan blinks in surprise as he's hauled to his feet and into Cody's chest.

"This is nice," he teases but Cody just winds his arms tighter around him.

Obi-Wan clings back.

He's not quite sure how long they stand there. Cody buries his face in Obi-Wan's neck and the Jedi can feel hot tears trail down his skin and down under his tunic.

Obi-Wan still feels lost every time this happens.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum," he whispers to Cody's hair.

Bewildered, he barely stops himself from squeaking as Cody starts shaking.

"Cody. Cody. It's okay."

Fingers fist in the loose folds of his tunic and Obi-Wan gently backs them onto the bed. They curl up around each other, Cody still hiding his face in the now slightly damp material of Obi-Wan's clothing.

"You know," Cody eventually mumbles, voice thick and husky with held back tears, "I don't know who I'd be without you. Where I'd be. What I'd be."

Obi-Wan opens his eyes and finds Cody's face barely an inch from his own; tear-streaked, puffy, lips slick with sobs. But his eyes, even though they're red-rimmed and swollen, are still frighteningly clear. Their rich umber reminds Obi-Wan of the trees that stood in the gardens of the Jedi Temple. Ancient, comforting.

"Me neither, Cody."

The younger man shudders.

"Say my name again. Please."

Obi-Wan takes Cody's face in his palms as the other man's eyes skitter almost feverishly, but still stare pleadingly into Obi-Wan's own.

"Cody," he rasps, pouring all his love and devotion and shattered need into that one word.

He whispers it again and again, over and over, like a prayer, a mantra of salvation.

* * *

"Obi-Wan," Cody has always said his name in a way that makes him shiver, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin and an odd warmth sinking into him.

Cody's got his arms wrapped around him and a leg swung over his hip. It's warm and he feels safe. He's too, well, absorbed in the after-glow to be anything but safe, here, in Cody's arms.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." Cody murmurs again.

Chapped lips brush over his forehead, the gesture sending tingles all over his skin and making his lips curl up even as he hums.

"Your name," Cody continues, "What does it mean?"

Obi-Wan, oddly enough, knows. Quinlan - _where is he now?_ \- had become obsessed with finding out more about Obi-Wan's heritage (all they knew was that he was from Stewjon. And that his parents had tried to drown him before the Jedi arrived). So they had, one afternoon, gone hunting through the library with Mace, if rather reluctantly, in tow.

Stewjon was a rather backwater and insignificant planet, so there were no proper records about it. Their mission proved successful only after they had been approached by Yoda, who sat them all down with a mysterious smile and answered all their questions in a rare moment of indulgence.

"I believe," he whispers into the space between Cody's heartbeats and his slow breaths, "That it means _calm star_."

He leans back, sacrificing his comfortable position on Cody's chest, to see Cody's slow smile that crinkles his eyes and makes them glow like kyber, but rich and warm and dark gold.

"Calm star," Cody echoes, "Suits you."

Obi-Wan makes a vague noise and Cody yawns.

They fall asleep.

The next morning, Obi-Wan wakes up a little too early. He doesn't quite know why, really. But he notices that the Force is oddly clear. It might be because the Force sings around Cody. It always has.

But now there is silence for it to echo in.

The man himself is asleep, snuffling into Obi-Wan's hair. It's hours before they're supposed to be up; the suns rise far later at this time of year. The agripod can wait.

Obi-Wan wonders, not for the first time, what he would be without Cody. A wreck, probably. He was destined for infinite sadness, after all.

Their names flash past.

Cody's arms tighten around him.

Qui-Gon has not yet appeared, despite the passing years. Obi-Wan is both grateful and resentful, in a way. He doesn't want his former Master to see him but he also feels abandoned. Betrayed. He also needs to tell Cody about the possibility that they're going to be visited by the presence of his former Master. At some unknown point.

He sighs and wriggles a little, trying to loosen Cody's grip on him. The other man grumbles in his sleep and holds on tighter.

Obi-Wan, still not for the first time, has a moment of annoyance towards Cody for being a little force-sensitive (all the clones were, to varying extents - another example of how they were all unique). However, it means that when both of them are sufficiently unguarded (like now) or just doing something _together_ , they start to become more aware of each other's thoughts and emotions, start to predict the other's actions. And respond.

Obi-Wan sighs again, and lets himself be held.

It's all they can do now. Hold on to each other.

Cody stirs with a sharp inhale, eyes blinking open.

"Wassertime?" He sits up sharply, and then blinks a few more times before his gaze lands on the chronometer beside the bed. He pauses and stares at Obi-Wan. "Too early."

He flops back down, throwing an arm around Obi-Wan's waist and pulling him down on top of himself. Obi-Wan yelps, high-pitched, and Cody laughs deep in his chest, a low rumble.

"You troglodyte." The Jedi manages as he's rolled on top of Cody, his back pressed against a broad chest.

"Big word for so early in the morning, cyar'ika."

Obi-Wan huffs, squirming deliberately just to hear Cody stifle a curse.

He gets a hard pinch to his hipbone and squeaks again as he's rolled over, Cody on all fours above him, eyes glinting amusement in the dim light of the setting moons.

This wasn't the reaction Obi-Wan was expecting, but he's pleased nonetheless.

"Can I?" Cody asks softly.

He still asks, even now, after so many years.

Obi-Wan nods and Cody smiles, nipping at his jaw. A hand slides under the thin material of his sleepwear, travelling up his chest and tugging the material upwards, exposing Obi-Wan's stomach. Cody presses a kiss to one of the scars there before leaning up to claim Obi-Wan's lips.

He's dimly aware of Cody's other hand going somewhere else and Cody smirking, a little predatory.

"The agripod can wait," Cody drawls against his mouth and _oh_ that feels good, there are fingers in him all of a sudden, he's still loose from last night, and he's gasping out profanities as he squirms helplessly.

Cody chuckles, low and raspy, and that sound makes Obi-Wan want to scream.

"Was that Huttese?"

Obi-Wan glares at him, then softens, smiling.

"We have time," Cody whispers into his neck.

Obi-Wan realises that they really, really do.

He smiles, giddy.

Cody grins back.

**Author's Note:**

> Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - I love you forever [mando'a]
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudo and a comment, like and subscribe, yada yada yada. Boost your local not-so local author please ;)


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